


A Rick and His Morty

by CuddlyHawk



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Gen, dimension hopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 02:39:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10401885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuddlyHawk/pseuds/CuddlyHawk
Summary: Infinite dimensions means infinite realities...even one where Rick was around for Morty's childhood. But all good things must come to an end.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Baby Morty](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/278433) by kiwaart. 



_A Morty…NEEDS his Rick…_

As he was fading out of existence, dying from a fatal gunshot to the stomach, Rick still held onto the knowledge that his Morty would forever be abandoned. He would just be one Morty among the millions in existence, but only one of the few existing without having ever met his Rick. He wasn’t even born yet. But Rick knew what their adventures would have held, had he been alive to drag Morty along with him. He knew the kinds of bonds that Ricks had with their Mortys. He felt a pang of regret, that he left his family before he got a chance to go on an adventure with his own Morty. Beth was pregnant with the first little sucker, Rick knew. Summer, she would be called. Though Beth was still debating with Jerry about baby names. And later on down the road, she would debate again over more baby names for their second child. But Rick knew. He knew he would be named Mortimer Smith, lovingly nicknamed Morty. And that he and Morty would have been the best of friends through thick and thin, over every fabric of possible time, growing and learning from one another. Friends forever, Rick and Morty. A hundred years. Rick and Morty dot com…

The pain grew steadily worse until Dimension C-137 Rick felt the dark bliss of unconsciousness claim him. _I’m sorry…Morty…_ And with a final, rattling breath of death, he let his life leave him.

~ ~ ~

Rick sat with a tiny, 3-year old girl squirming next to him on the hard plastic chair. He tried to make it a point to not acknowledge her. It would only encourage the annoying behavior. Finally, when she stood on the chair and yanked on his messy hair, he turned to her sharply. “S-Summer!” He chastised in frustration. “Y-Y-Y- How many times have I told you to stop m-URRP-essing around?!”

Instantly, she quieted and sat, slumping in a very childlike way, complete with a pouty lip and big, glossy eyes. “Where’s mommy and daddy, grampa Rick?” She asked, wrinkling her nose at the sterile waiting room, eyeing the nurses behind a counter.

“D-Don’t play stupid, Summer,” Rick rolled his eyes, but smiled down at the child after a second, a gleam of joy badly hidden in his eyes. “Your mom is giving birth. Y-URRP-ou’re gonna be a sister. A little brother. That’s what you’re gonna have. Your mom’s in there, pushing and pushing, and soon, an ugly, wrinkly pink thing will pop out, and you’ll be ignored for the next year or so while they try to take care of the thing.” Summer’s joyful smile gradually faded through the explanation, until she was staring in horror at her grandfather.

“…oh,” was all she said, clasping her hands and pressing them into her lap, patiently waiting. But her attention span could only last for so long, and soon, she was smiling again, and was asking Rick all kinds of questions. “But if mommy and daddy are busy with the baby, does that mean you’ll play with me, grampa Rick?” She wiggled and got to her feet again, holding onto Rick’s shoulder to keep her balance. “And what’s the baby’s name? Will I be able to hold him? Can _he_ play with me? An—!”

“Woah, woah, slow down. Damn, why are you s-so goddamn eager about this? Look, th-there’s nothing special about this. You won’t get to play with him until he’s at least two, and y-URRP-ou’ll be too old to play with him at that point." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "And if I ever catch you trying to paint his nails or some bullshit, you can bet your ass I’ll dump that bottle of glossy, stinking shit over your pretty little ginger head.”

Summer giggled, thinking the loud tone was funny, even if she couldn't understand all the words. “Okay grampa,” she said quietly, before gripping his shoulder tight. “But what’s his name? I wanna know!”

“Morty.”

“M-Morty?” She asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “What kinda name is that?”

“Your little brother’s,” Rick answered simply. “You’ll get used to it.” Rick was quickly tiring of the child’s questions, and slumped lower in his chair. If he was allowed to bring it, he would have brought along his flask, and would probably be poisoning his liver at this point. But no, he was stuck here, waiting for his daughter to finally push the little f*cker from her uterus. She’d been in labor for at least twelve hours at this point. Summer came out after only ten. Morty would be due any moment.

Rick groaned slightly and ignored the small hands gripping the collar of his lab coat as he tilted his head back and let his mouth open in a light snore as he dozed off.

He was awakened by small hands quickly patting his cheeks. His first instinct was to cuss them out and shoot them with the gun in his pocket, but something inside him knew better. He cracked open an eye and saw his doe-eyed, orange-haired little granddaughter staring back at him. He closed his eyes and leaned back again. “What is it, Summer?” He asked in irritation.

“Daddy’s here, he’s saying we can go see mommy and the baby now!” She said excitedly, patting his cheeks again. He was instantly awake, hearing that Beth had finally given birth, and that they were allowed to see her and Morty. He stood, gathering Summer in his arms as he stood and stretched his back. He gave a curt nod to Jerry, who led the way back to Beth’s room. Beth seemed very out of it. She was half-asleep, sweat gleaming on her forehead, gown rumpled, and exhaustion radiating from every pore of her being. 

Summer squirmed until Rick put her down, and she ran to the bedside, standing on tiptoes to see the bundle in the crook of her mom’s arm. Beth smiled and reached over to run the back of her hand gently down Summer’s cheek before lifting a piece of the blanket so she could see her brother.

“We decided on a name,” she said tiredly, smiling joyfully at them. She locked eyes with Jerry and nodded faintly. Jerry had a confused expression for a moment before understanding clicked.

“His name…is Mortimer,” he announced to the room proudly. Summer perked up and looked at Rick in surprise. How had he known the baby’s name if her mommy and daddy had only just come up with it? Rick shrugged and looked away.

“Morty,” she clarified to her parents, but they took it as her nickname for him.

“Morty,” Beth repeated, tracing a fingertip over the chubby little cheek. Morty’s eyes were sunken, like all babies’ are, and his lips were pursed in an unpleasant expression. His forehead was wrinkled the tiniest bit from his unhappiness. His mouth opened in a small yawn, and he began to whimper.

Summer crawled up onto the bed before anyone could say anything, and looked at him. “He’s really ugly,” she commented. Morty’s cries grew. “And loud.”

Beth chuckled good-naturedly and motioned for Summer to come closer, and asked her to cross her legs. She obeyed, and Beth placed the warm baby into Summer’s arms, letting him rest in her lap while closely supervising the two. Summer sat stiller than Rick had ever seen her, as she scrutinized the pink face. Morty’s wrinkly little eyes peered up at Summer, and when she offered him a smile, he babbled quietly. Summer giggled and reached up to poke his cheek lightly. This earned a small giggle from Morty, and his little hand reached up and found Summer’s finger. Reflexes caused his fingers to tighten around Summer’s finger.

A tired yawn from the mother caught everyone’s attention. An orderly noticed, and suggested that Beth get some rest. “I can put Mortimer into the bassinet.” She reached out to Summer, offering to take the child. Summer reluctantly gave him up, letting the nurse take him and place him in the crib-like bed. Soon, both the mother and the baby were sleeping. “I can bring some blankets and an extra pillow or two if you want to make yourselves comfortable on the sofa. It opens into a bed, if you feel like staying the night,” she suggested kindly. Jerry nodded his thanks while Rick tried to look disinterested, and the nurse took her leave, shutting off the light on her way out. There was enough light from the setting sun filtering through the curtains so the room wasn’t pitch black, but it wouldn’t disturb the family.

Summer easily became bored and frustrated with all the waiting around and doing nothing, so Jerry took her home, promising to come back tomorrow. They had made Rick babysit her long enough. Rick, however, wanted to stay at the hospital, so he made himself comfortable on the sofa-bed and sat back, listening to the sounds of the hospital around them. Provided, it was quiet in the room, but if he listened hard, he could make out the sounds of the nurses talking in the nurse’s station, and the sound of the intercom every now and then. He wasn’t tired; this was it. This was the day Morty finally came into the world. It was time to start shaping his new buddy. He and Morty would become best friends, he just knew it. Every Rick needed a Morty, just like every Morty needed a Rick. And now they finally had each other.

Rick slipped out of his bed, carefully avoiding the squeaky springs as he stood and shuffled over to the sleeping baby. Morty was peacefully sleeping, his little chest rising and falling as he took tiny breaths. His face was still scrunched up in an uncomfortable scowl. Rick chuckled and used his thumb to stroke away the anxiety lines from the baby’s forehead. So young, and yet Morty was already showing his anxious personality. Morty cooed in his sleep at Rick's touch, and shifted the tiniest bit. Rick’s heart fluttered. He could feel the love for this kid blooming in his chest. But he’d never admit that he loved him so much.

Morty gave a little hiccup, and Rick thought the baby was going to cry. But instead, Morty’s breath seemed to catch in his chest, and after a few tense, un-crying seconds, Rick frowned and leaned closer.

The baby wasn’t breathing.

Fear spiked through Rick’s chest, and he pressed a finger to the small chest, feeling for the rise and fall of breath. But he didn’t feel anything. Not even a heartbeat. His head started whirling, and he stumbled to Beth, shaking her awake. “Beth! Beth, wake up dammit!” He cried as she came to.

“Mmm?” She asked drowsily, looking around until she found her father leaning over her. “Dad? What is it?”

“It’s Morty! H-H-H-He’s not breathing!”

“What?!” She sat up and leaned out of bed, ignoring the IV tugging on the back of her hand and the other monitors stuck to her as she pullet the bassinet close and looked down at her baby. Sure enough, his chest still wasn’t moving, and his face was even turning a light shade of blue. “Morty!” She cried, scooping him out of the crib and holding him close to her chest, trying to jostle him enough to wake him so he could take a breath on his own. But at this point, he would have gone unconscious if he had been awake anyway, so it was no use. Beth’s eyes were wide as she stared fearfully up at her father. “Dad! W-What do I do?”

“U-uhh…” Rick’s mind fumbled to try to work. He was tempted to just try to resuscitate the kid himself, but he didn’t want to hurt him, and he knew he wasn’t the most gentle person. So he ignored his instincts and ran for the door, bursting it open and shouting down the hall at the graveyard-shift nurses. “Hey! Get the hell in here! My grandson isn’t breathing!” More fear than he would have liked seeped into his voice, but at least it got the nurses moving. Within seconds, a squad of them were in the room, fretting over the baby as well as Beth, reassuring her that they would take good care of Morty, even as they loaded him back into his bassinet and took him away.

It was over too quickly for Beth, though during the ordeal, time seemed to be going way too slow. She felt tear streaks running down her face, and she was vaguely aware that Rick was sitting next to her on the bed, rubbing circles on her back as tears dripped down onto her lap. She let out a small sob and turned into his chest, crying herself to sleep. Rick’s heart was pounding. He saved his Morty’s life. If he hadn’t been here, would he have died? It was with this worrying thought, that Rick finally let himself sleep.

When they awoke, the first thing Rick and Beth saw was that the bassinet was back in their room, and Morty was in it, supposedly sleeping. Beth’s heart was in her throat as she looked to Rick. She didn’t know if she could check if the baby was alive, or if they had put him back in the room so she could say her goodbyes. Rick understood, and made his way to Morty. He pressed his finger to the child’s chest, and let out a deep sigh of relief when he felt the strong heartbeat pulsing back against his finger.

Beth saw his relief, and laughed to herself, a giddy laugh lacking any real humor. She was so relieved. So, SO relieved. “Thank god…” she muttered to herself, pressing a hand to her chest.

Rick, meanwhile, was mesmerized, staring down at the child. Morty’s dark eyes were peering up at him, and he seemed to be scrutinizing him, before looking around the room and deciding there was nothing worth looking at and closing his eyes once more. Rick smiled and reached down, supporting the tiny head and lifting the baby up and into his arms. He seemed to fit perfectly. So much better than Summer ever did. Sure, he enjoyed Summer, but there was something different about Morty. He realized that there was a reason that Ricks and Mortys got along so well. He could feel the connection between them, though Morty was less than a day old.

Looking over at Beth, Rick realized that she had fallen asleep, a faint smile perking at the corners of her lips. Rick smirked to himself and shuffled to his makeshift bed, the little bundle comfortably snug in his arms. He sat down and supported the baby with his lap as he examined the child. He had a good amount of hair on his head; A thin layer of what looked like brown peach fuzz covered his crown. His eyes were shiny and big as he looked from Rick to something behind him, probably the orange backlit window curtain, then back at Rick, before his face split into a huge grin.

Caught off-guard with love swelling in his chest, Rick smiled back before he could catch himself, and lightly tapped Morty’s nose. Then it hit him. The stink.

“What the hell?” He asked no one in particular, lifting the child and sniffing him. Sure enough, he could smell gravy. “Oh what the shit?” He snarled, glaring at the still-giggling Morty. “That’s why you were laughing, wasn’t it? You shit yourself, are you proud of yourself?” Morty giggled, kicking and waving his hands. “Oh yeah Morty, I bet you’re r-URRP-eal proud of yourself, huh? N-Now someone’s gotta clean that shit off you…” He glanced at Beth, who was still sound asleep, even through Rick’s tirade. He groaned and set the baby in the bassinet. “Goddamn it… Alright, where do they keep the diapers in this joint?”

~ ~ ~

Summer stamped her foot impatiently. “Mo-om!” She cried into the house from the doorway. “You promised we’d go see _Mr. Unicorn and his Sparkly Friends_ today!”

“I know, I know, dear!” Beth called from Morty’s room. “Just give me a second to get Morty settled; the movie doesn’t start for another hour anyway, we’ll be fine.”

“I wanna go nooowwww!” Summer whined.

In the bedroom, Beth was holding Morty in her arms, trying to rock him enough to make him tired so he would sleep while she was gone. Dark bags seemed to have made themselves at home under Beth’s eyes. With the newborn constantly crying at the most unfortunate times, usually at 2am, Beth rarely got enough sleep nowadays. She had almost forgotten about this stressful aspect of having a newborn in the house.

Finally, Morty’s eyes closed and his breaths grew deeper and more shallow, and she ever so gently placed him in his crib before sneaking out of the room. She took Summer by the hand and started to lead her out to the car. Rick had the garage door open, and was tinkering with something. “Hey dad?” She called as she buckled Summer into her carseat. “Would you mind checking on Morty every now and then? He’s due for a bottle soon, but I should be home before he wakes up. We’ll only be gone two hours at most. If anything happens, just text me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rick waved his hand dismissively. “Sure thing Beth.”

“Dad, please?” She asked pleadingly. “I rarely ask you to take care of the kids. But I promised Summer I’d take her out, and since Jerry is at a job interview, he can’t watch him. Please?”

“I said alright Beth, jeez, don’t get your balls in a bunch. I’ll take care of the little turd, don’t worry about a thing.” He took a swig from his flask and let out a deep burp. Beth began regretting her decision, but Summer started whining and tugging on her sleeve, trying to get her to start moving. Beth heaved a sigh of resignation and climbed into the driver’s seat, buckling up and driving off, giving the garage one last longing look.

Rick watched discreetly as the car drove off. Finally, some time alone with Morty. This would be the first time. Occasionally he’d have to babysit both kids, but this was one of the first times with just him and Morty, in the year that Morty had been home from the hospital.

Even though he was itching to get up to Morty’s room to check on him, Rick was able to control himself. He continued working until he was done with the project he was working on, and after taking another swig from his flask, he stood and stretched his spine before slowly making his way towards the stairs and into Morty’s room. It was very quiet and dark, and Rick could only just make out the crib against the wall, amidst the dressers and hampers and trash can and shelf of plush toys, and other baby things.

He stepped close and peered down at Morty. What he didn’t expect was to see Morty staring back up at him. Seeing Rick, Morty babbled and raised his arms, kicking softly under the blanket. Rick’s jaw tightened. Morty was supposed to be asleep, how long had he just been laying here? Suppressing a groan at Beth’s negligence, he scooped up the child and held him in his arms. After getting him settled, Rick saw Morty’s eyes begin to droop before he let out a wide yawn. Rick rocked as gently as he could, and within seconds, Morty was fast asleep.

Even though he didn’t want to, Rick placed Morty back in his crib. But as soon as he tucked him in, Morty stirred and his eyes cracked open. He considered Rick for a moment before his face scrunched up and his mouth opened in a loud cry. Rick humphed to himself and watched Morty cry before turning and walking out. Morty continued to sob, the cries growing louder when he realized that Rick was nowhere near him.

The crying continued until Morty saw Rick’s face and frizzy blue hair appear in his line of vision once more. His tears stopped, but he still looked upset. Rick used one hand to pick Morty up, and made his way down to the living room while wrapping him in a blanket. Even in his yellow fleece onesie, Morty could still get cold easily; the temperature fluctuations between the rooms was enough to get a newborn sick.

Rick slumped into the sofa, holding Morty safely in his arms, and raised a prepared bottle, testing the temperature on his arm before adjusting Morty so he was leaning against Rick’s chest. Morty was just at that age where he could lift his head, and was already bottle-feeding like a champion. So when Rick offered the bottle to the child, he was quickly rewarded with small, eager hands reaching up to grip at the bottle, and soft sucking sounds as Morty drank. 

When half the bottle was gone, and Morty was whining softly, Rick lifted him and supported him over his shoulder, patting his back. “Come on Morty, let it out. I know you gotta burp, no use hiding i-URRP-it.” As soon as Rick let out his own burp, Morty coughed up his own version of a burp, complete with a little excess milk dribbling down his chin. “There it is. Told you.” He accused, adjusting Morty back against his chest once more. Morty grabbed at the bottle again, wanting more to drink.

Rick let out a soft sigh, slouching so his cheek was level with Morty’s temple. He could smell the baby. A mix of powder, milk, and something very…Morty. It was a unique scent. Rick let his lips touch the back of Morty’s fuzzy head in a small kiss while the baby drank, oblivious to what the future with the man sitting behind him would hold.

~ ~ ~ 

“Morty!”

Running as fast as he could, and wheezing through aching lungs, Rick searched for his grandson. His eyes darted around the strange planet. His little sidekick was nowhere to be found. He cupped his hands over his mouth and coughed into them before shouting once more. “MORTY!!”

There was no reply.

“Dammit.” He cursed, fumbling with his portal gun. He didn’t want to leave, but if he stayed here much longer, the poisonous fumes would eventually get to him, and he would be no use to Morty unconscious. But it would be okay if Morty was out. Rick would still have a few minutes to find him before it was too late. Growling, Rick slammed on the button, opening a green portal, which he jumped through before falling to his knees and coughing heavily, his lungs relieved to finally be breathing fresh air.

How had everything gone so wrong? It was just another adventure with Morty! They were checking out some kind of anomaly in another dimension. A junkyard dimension. Rick figured it would be a good place to pick up some new technology, or a new organism to dissect and examine. He didn’t realize the air was toxic until Morty was coughing and grumbling something about ‘eggs in the air.’ And he was right. The air smelled like rotten eggs, something Rick had learned the hard way that meant the air was toxic, to some degree.

He had only been trying to find something, anything, worth collecting so they could get the hell out of there and back home without him having to craft an oxygen mask. But then a huge monster had appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and began to chase the duo. Rick didn’t realize that the 14-year old was no longer with him until now.

Quickly opening another portal where he could obtain a gas mask in seconds for himself and for Morty—when he found him—he reopened the junkyard dimension with the sulfuric air, and strapped his gas mask on before stepping through. He was ready. Morty would be fine.

Rick tried calling for the kid, but his voice was muffled by the mask, so he gave up quickly on it. It was unlikely that Morty was conscious at this point anyway, so there was no use calling for him and drawing attention to himself. The monster might come back. “Dammit Morty, what’d you get yourself into this time…?”

Climbing over mountains of trash and other mysterious junk that would normally have him drooling over, Rick’s worried eyes scanned the horizon for the familiar splash of yellow and blue from Morty’s favorite T-shirt and jeans. Finally, he saw it. Far in the distance, but it was unmistakeable. The bright yellow shirt could be recognized anywhere. Rick took off in a sprint, the sound of his breaths magnified by the mask around his face.

He reached the area, and realized that it was just a large swatch of fabric from Morty’s shirt. It had obviously been torn, and it was dirty and shredding. Rick’s stomach dropped and he looked around for tracks to try to find where Morty was taken.

There. Large puncture prints in the muck that looked like the monster’s claw-like feet. Rick snarled and readied every gun hidden in his vest. If that thing hurt his Morty, he would end it in every way possible, then go back in time and murder it again.

Lost in his thoughts, Rick almost didn’t realize when the trail ended. He looked around desperately where the tracks stopped, and eventually his eyes landed on a large pile of junk. Something told him there was something different about this pile, and without thinking, he shoved his hands deep into the smelly, slimy trash, pulling an prying pieces away until he found what he was looking for. A small, dirtied hand. Limp, but very much Morty-like. Rick sighed a relieved breath, and continued to clear the trash off his grandson. Sure enough, he was unconscious, and didn’t respond whatsoever when Rick pulled him from the pile and dragged him a good distance away from it.

“Morty, come on kid, wake up.” Rick muttered, strapping the extra mask to Morty’s face and patting his cheek to try to rouse him. There was no response. “Dammit.” He knelt and pulled Morty’s limp form up onto his back, staggering at the weight before finding his balance. He heard a loud, screaming roar, and turned just in time to see the monster charging straight towards them. Rick quickly opened a portal home, leaped through, and closed it behind him, but not before the monster could reach an arm though. As the portal closed, it severed the claw, cauterizing the wound and letting the claw drop to the floor. Rick couldn’t care less. He yanked the gas masks off them and checked Morty’s pulse. Nothing. Memories flooded him, from when Morty almost died in the hospital, but he shook the memory from his head. Morty survived then, he’ll survive again.

Rick interlocked his fingers and pressed them deeply into the center of Morty’s chest. After the ordeal in the hospital, he learned CPR, just in case something arose again. He hated not knowing what to do, or freezing up in the heat of the moment. He vowed that he would be prepared for anything when it came to Morty. He wouldn’t fail him again.

Pumping and counting under his breath, Rick’s thoughts tried to swim away from him. But he always netted them back and commanded himself to stay focused. He checked Morty’s pulse and when he found nothing, he tilted the kid’s head back to open his airway, and puffed a breath into his lungs before going back to pumping his chest. Rick wanted to call a hospital, but what would he say? ‘Yeah, I took my grandson to a poisonous dimension. Can you get him to breathe again? What was in the air? Oh hell, I dunno. Probably some concoction of sulfur and nitrogen or something.’ No, there would be no explaining this without making it sound like he tried to kill him on purpose. So he continued to pump and puff breaths as the minutes ticked by.

Beads of sweat began to form on Rick’s forehead as he worked. But nothing seemed to help. He brought them to the garage using his portal gun, and was able to get Morty up onto one of the tables so he could work on him better. He also had access to all of his tools. He snagged a makeshift defibrillator and pressed it into Morty’s chest before activating it. Morty’s back arched as his body responded to the shock, but other than that, he didn’t move. Once the shock was over, he laid just as limply as before.

“No. No no no NO!” Rick growled increasingly loudly, slamming the two pads into Morty’s chest once more and giving him another shock. Still, no response. “I can cure death,” he whispered to himself. “If it’s under a certain amount of time, I can cure it. He can’t die.” Gritting his teeth, Rick tried one more time. Morty’s chest was beginning to darken from the power of the shocks. But still, his heart refused to work.

Sadness and disbelief overwhelmed Rick. Just like that, Morty was gone. He had been working on him for over a half hour. It was too late by now. Morty was dead. All of Morty’s life flashed before Rick’s eyes. All their adventures, all of Morty’s childhood; growing up, walking, talking, making a mess on birthdays. And in one careless moment, it was all taken away.

Rick stumbled back, holding his head as his world began to spin. "...I can't cure death..." He shook his head and stumbled into the house, groping around the fridge for a bottle of beer. Beth and Jerry sat on the sofa, watching some bullshit show. Rick couldn’t care less. He killed his Morty. After years and years of taking care of him and bonding with him, and now he was just gone. Rick stumbled into the living room and slurred something about a very long adventure with Morty, to which Beth and Jerry nodded absently to. Rick taking morty on adventures that would last a few days was nothing new, they thought it would be the same. Rick made his way back to the garage, his stomach twisting in an ugly way as he looked at the body on the table. The corpse on the table. "I can't cure death..."

He shook his head. The alcohol was helping him to not think about it so much. He loaded the body into his homemade flying car and flew off, taking them out into a different dimension. A space-y one, where he figured Morty would like to be laid to rest. Morty had always enjoyed space adventures.

Strapping on an astronaut suit, he cradled Morty in his arms one last time, as he opened the door to the car and let himself float out, tethered with a small lead. Morty fit comfortably in his arms, despite his size. Rick remembered Morty as a child. It seemed like just yesterday he was teaching him how to shoot a ray gun. His eyes pricked with tears and he bit his lip before resting his forehead against the plastic front of his mask, and pressed it to the back of Morty’s head. "I love you, Morty..." He would need a _lot_ of alcohol after this.

Slowly, very slowly, he released Morty, letting his contact with him become less and less, until the zero gravity of space lifted Morty right out of his arms and up into the nighttime space sky. Rick watched him rise into the darkness before turning away and pulling himself back into his car. He wanted to look back dramatically, like they do in movies. But he didn’t want to have some cliche ending to his story. Morty was dead. That was that. And Rick vowed that he would never care about anyone so deeply again.

Rick sat in the drivers seat of the car, not bothering to close the door, and unlocked the helmet of his space suit, knowing full-well that the atmosphere—or lack of—in space would kill him almost instantly. In a world without Morty, he didn’t want to exist. But just before he could pull the helmet off completely, something clicked. A world without Morty. A world. He knew of different dimensions. What if there was a dimension where a Morty didn’t have a Rick? What if Rick could adopt him as his own and go on adventures with him instead? It was an uncomfortable and uneasy thought, but Rick gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath before re-locking the helmet on his head and searching his car’s multidimensional GPS system for any timelines where a Morty didn’t have a Rick. Almost all of them had Mortys that were killed during an adventure. There were very few with lonely Mortys. Usually it was the Morty who _died_ , Rick realized. He wasn’t alone. But he couldn’t go to a dimension where their Rick had died in front of any member of the family, otherwise they would question where he came from, and how he was alive again. No, he would have to look for something different.

Then he found it. A Rick who had left his Beth and Jerry, telling them he was going to check up on something, before Morty or Summer were born, and never came back. He was killed while in the other dimension. Gunshot to the gut. One of the most painful ways to go. He could slip into that one’s place and pretend like he got lost, or decided that it was time to come home after his adventure. Jerry was stupid enough, he’d believe it. And he was sure that it would make Beth happy enough to see him again, that she wouldn’t question it either. But Rick felt bitter about the whole thing. He felt like he was replacing his original Morty. He shook the idea from his head and looked through the details of the dimension once more. It would be fine. If he played his cards right, he figured he could be going on adventures with this new Morty within a few months. But his heart remained stoic. He would not love this Morty like he loved the other. He would take care of him, but he would mostly just use him for what he was: a Morty. Nothing more.

So it was decided. Sighing in tired resignation, Dimension B-144 Rick typed in the new dimension and was transported to his new home. With a deep breath, he knocked on the door of the Smith household, and Beth answered the door with a shocked, but very ecstatic expression, gushing over him and bringing him inside to introduce him to the family.

It worked. He would now be known as Dimension C-137 Rick.

**Author's Note:**

> What if C-137 Rick (the Rick we follow in the show) wasn't around for the past 20 years because he was killed, and the reason he 'suddenly' shows up now is because he's from another dimension, and his Morty was killed. Hence his brusque attitude toward everyone. He's afraid to get close. This would also explain the 'baby Morty' scenes in Close Rick-Counters of the Rick Kind, and why they made him so emotional. He misses his original Morty...  
> I broke my heart writing this, so what do you all think of it? Agree? Disagree? I'd love to hear your input!


End file.
